


Meat

by Tough_Girl



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Communication, Cultural Differences, Established Relationship, F/M, Fairies are Vegetarian, Goblins Definitely Aren't, Romantic Fluff, relationship building, relationship troubles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 10:01:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23349595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tough_Girl/pseuds/Tough_Girl
Summary: Marianne suddenly finds herself faced with an uncomfortable truth about Bog.
Relationships: Bog King/Marianne (Strange Magic), Butterfly Bog - Relationship
Comments: 6
Kudos: 77





	Meat

"Haha, can't you do any better than that? I'm getting bored over here."

"Ha, you want better, tough girl? I'll give you better."

Marianne barely took to the air in time to avoid the head of Bog's staff as it slashed past her feet. She let out a breathy laugh. "Ooo, the big, bad king of the Dark Forest can't even hold his own against a fairy princess. I'm not impressed."

"Is that so?" The devilish smirk that crossed Bog's lips was the only warning before the goblin hurtled towards her, a mini hurricane of long limbs, wings, and whirling staff. Marianne parried the sudden onslaught and stepped backwards, suddenly on the defensive. Pressing his advantage, Bog whipped his staff out expertly, catching the tip of Marianne's sword against the amber centerpiece and twisting the blade out of her grasp. She lunged after it, but Bog looped the shaft of his staff behind her. Marianne suddenly found herself pinned, with Bog's staff pressing against her lower back and her hands flat against his chest.

Bog looked down at her, his smirk transforming to a fanged grin. "Well, well, well, what were you saying, princess?"

Marianne pushed vainly at the broad chest that her face was currently smooshed against. She growled in response to Bog's teasing and tried to step on his foot. He moved it.

"I think someone owes somebody an apology," he said, his voice rising in a teasing lilt.

"In your dreams, cockroach," Marianne growled. With that, she reached around his narrow waist and tickled him right in the sensitive spot between his wings.

Bog yelped and performed a little hop-skip-jump, nearly dropping his staff as he did so. It was enough to give Marianne an escape route. She darted away from him as his outraged shout followed. "Oo, I'm going to make you pay for that one, you dirty, little cheater!"

The sparring match became a short-lived game of chase around the throne room, short-lived both because the fairy and the goblin were already worn out from their fight _and_ because Marianne rather fancied being caught. It was not long before a pair of lanky goblin arms caught Marianne around the waist, pulling her back, struggling and laughing, against his scaly chest once again. Bog exacted his revenge by tickling her sides and at the juncture of her wings until she was struggling for breath and wriggling helplessly in his arms.

"You don't seem to have much to say now, your highness," he chuckled, leaning over her and changing his playful tickles to languid strokes along her lower back and sides. Marianne relaxed and slipped her arms around his neck with a huffing sigh as he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck and gently kissed her shoulder.

"If you two lovebugs are done, lunch is ready," a loud voice said directly behind them.

Bog nearly jumped out of his scales. " _Moooom_!" he snapped. "Bloody tree spirits, mom, how long have you been standing there watching us?"

Griselda waved a hand airily at them as she waddled back towards the dining hall. "Oh, don't 'mom' me. You're the one who chose to get all lovey-dovey in the middle of a very public throne room. And settle your scales, I spoke up as soon as I saw you."

Grumbling, Bog picked up his staff as Marianne retrieved her sword, and they both headed towards the dining hall.

Marianne still found herself amazed at the goblins' work. Only a little over a month after the collapse of the old castle, the new Dark Castle was habitable, with only the lower levels yet to finish. The sounds of digging and carving that usually echoed through the structure had ceased for the time being as the goblin workers took their noontime repose.

As they entered the dining hall, Bog moaned. "Ooo, that smell good. Dear skies, I'm hungry!"

Indeed, a strong smell that Marianne could not quite place suffused the room. It was a rich smell, heavy and earthy in a way that reminded Marianne vaguely of _something_ , but she could not think what. She'd eaten at the Dark Castle only a handful of times though, and she was still getting used to goblin cuisine. Curiously, she scanned the table as she sat down across from Bog who had flopped eagerly onto his bone chair and was already filling up his plate.

The strange smell seemed to be emanating from the main dish, but Marianne had never seen anything like the dark brown loaf sitting on a huge tray in the middle of the table. It was not bread, nor fruit, and it had a glossy sheen to it that she could not place.

Bog had already cut off a large chunk of the brown loaf and dug into it eagerly, making little noises of appreciation around each mouthful. Marianne bit her lip, worrying it between her teeth. She didn't want to be rude to her hosts, and she had tried as best she could to be open and appreciative of Bog's culture since they had begun dating a month ago, but something about the strange food made her feel uneasy. Instead, she took several stuffed mushrooms and a large spoonful of creamy truffle, fennel, and wood sorrel casserole, the latter of which she had tried on a previous visit and approved of so heartily that Griselda had insisted on sending the recipe home with her.

Neither Bog nor Griselda had said anything, but Marianne felt a bit guilty for not even _trying_ the main dish. It wasn't like she was a picky eater – just the opposite in fact (her father _still_ occasionally brought up that time she'd nearly poisoned herself with pokeweed berries). She could at least try a little bit of it, and who knew, maybe she might even like it.

She was just leaning over to reach for the knife to cut herself off a portion when Bog leaned back with a long, satisfied sigh and tossed something down on his plate. Automatically, Marianne glanced over at him. And froze when she saw what it was that he had just discarded.

For a moment, she didn't recognize what the hard, white object was, with bits of brown still clinging to it and light scores across it from Bog's fangs. But then she realized what it was that she was looking at.

It was a bone.

The stuff on the table, the stuff Bog was pulling towards himself for a second helping, the stuff she'd almost reached for herself, it was the flesh of something that had once been living.

Nausea hit Marianne like a punch in the stomach.

In her head, she had known that goblins ate meat. All one had to do was look at Bog to see that he was a predator through and through. But somehow, the reality of that fact hadn't really worked its way into Marianne's consciousness, not in a tangible way anyhow. Being suddenly and unexpectedly faced with that reality was both a shock and a sick feeling of "I should have made _that_ connection sooner" in her stomach.

"Marianne, honey, are you all right? You've gone all pale, dear."

Marianne yanked her eyes away from the plate of whatever animal it was that her lover and his mother were devouring to see both goblins looking at her in concern. Bog had frozen, another chunk of meat clutched in his claws, staring worriedly at her. His lips and chin were coated with grease.

Marianne staggered to her feet, trying to hold down the swell of nausea. "I…I'm sorry, I…don't feel well," she stammered. "I…I need to go."

Griselda reached out as if take hold of Marianne's arm. "Here, honey, we'll lay you down in my room. It's probably the blood settling after all that jumping and spinning you were doing in the throne room earlier."

Marianne backed away out of Griselda's reach. "No…I…I'll be fine. I need to go." Her stomach lurched again and she spun around as fast as she could and bolted for the front entrance to the castle.

"Marianne!" she heard Bog's startled voice call after her, but she didn't turn around or stop. She hurtled out of the castle and made a beeline for the closest bushes, ignoring the surprised grunts of the goblin guards that she whisked past on the way out. She flung herself down on the far side of the bushes and retched.

The pungent smell of the meat still clogged her nostrils, and she couldn't get the image out of her mind of Bog, his teeth tearing at the animal flesh, his lips and chin slick with grease. She didn't know if she'd ever be able to kiss him again.

She hugged herself wretchedly, tears squeezing out of the corner of her eyes, trying desperately to rid herself of both the lingering smell and that horrifying image of Bog.

"Marianne?! Marianne, where are you? Mari- oh, thank the spirits, there you are!"

Bog landed beside her and pulled her around, his blue eyes wide with panic and worry. This close, he still reeked like cooked flesh and his jaw was still shiny with grease. Marianne almost retched again.

"You can't just do that!" Bog exclaimed. "Especially if you're not feeling well. What's the matter, Marianne?"

He wrinkled his nose suddenly and looked over at the bushes where Marianne had vomited. His gaze returned to her, even more concerned than before. "Are you sick? What's the matter?"

Marianne tucked her hands against her belly, avoiding having to look at his face. "I…I just need to be alone. Please, Bog."

He reached out and touched the tips of his claws to the back of her hand in a gentle, concerned gesture. "You know you can tell me anything, love. You were fine just a moment ago when we were sparring. And it's not like you to just take off into the forest like that. What's going on?"

She did look at him then and felt a knot in her throat. It was clear that he had absolutely no idea what had upset her so and equally clear that he had no idea that to a fairy, the concept of eating meat was as vile as the thought of eating the flesh of another fairy. Her instinct was to push Bog away, to shut him out, but she knew that wouldn't be fair to him.

"That stuff you were eating," she said weakly, "it was meat, wasn't it?"

"Aye," Bog answered, still perplexed. "Caliban and Brutus brought it back last night from their hunt. It was a good-sized chipmunk; it'll last us several weeks easily."

A chipmunk. Marianne fought off another round of nausea. Her head dropped back down.

"Is…is there something wrong with that?" Bog asked, sudden hesitation in his voice.

"Fairies don't eat meat," Marianne whispered. "I…I should have known you did, but I just didn't think about it before today."

Bog was quiet, then he spoke in a low voice. "Is that what upset you? Me eating meat?"

Marianne nodded dumbly. "It's like eating your own dead," she said. "For fairies."

"Oh," Bog said in a soft voice. He shifted uncomfortably beside her. "Marianne, I didn't know that about fairies. We never would have served it in front of you, if we had known."

"I know," Marianne answered, still staring at her knees.

Bog was silent for a slow measure, then he swallowed and spoke in a steady voice. "Marianne, I won't eat it any more if you don't want me to."

Marianne looked up at him again, scanning his earnest face. She would be lying if she said that she did not consider his offer for at least a few seconds. Bog's face was an open book; she saw determination in his eyes and the honesty of his vow, but she also saw the pained grimace at the corner of his mouth. She remembered how eagerly he had eaten the meat, how clearly he had enjoyed it. Yet, she knew without a doubt that if she took him up on his offer, he would do it for her.

And at that same moment, she understand why she couldn't ask such a thing of him, even if he had been the one to freely offer it.

Marianne had willingly entered into a relationship with Bog, knowing full well that he was a goblin, knowing full well that he was a different creature with different needs. She had accepted him for who he was, and he had happily done the same for her. Most of the time, she loved those differences, loved his goblin-ness, but it would not be right of her to pick and choose what parts of Bog she was willing to accept and which she wasn't. And Bog was a hunter, a predator, a meat-eater. She could either accept him fully for who he was or she could decide she couldn't. But if she couldn't, she had no business being in a relationship with him.

And when she put it like that, there really was no choice at all.

"No, Bog," she said. "I would never ask you to do that for me."

"I know," he answered steadily, his eyes never leaving hers. "That's why I offered."

She looked into his eyes, so determined, so willing to sacrifice a natural part of himself for her, and she felt love swell up to replace the feeling of disgust and nausea. She reached out and took his hand. "Bog, you're a goblin, and if I really say I love you, I have to learn to love everything that entails, even the parts that are difficult for me to accept."

She saw the little automatic shift of relief in his eyes, but he still looked at her with concern. "I don't want to make it any more difficult for you to love me than necessary," he said. "I may be a goblin and feel what I feel, but you have a right to feel whatever you feel as a fairy too, and I want to respect that. What can I do to help?"

"Well, not trying to feed me meat again will probably be a good start," Marianne said with a little laugh that wasn't quite as weak.

Bog smiled a little too. "That can be arranged. I'll talk to my mom and make sure she doesn't fix any dishes with meat while you're around. It's OK, we eat plenty of other things too, so it won't be a problem."

Marianne considered Bog's compromise for a moment then shook her head. "You shouldn't have to hide that part of yourself away from me, Bog. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate what you're offering, but…" She chewed her lip softly. "I hope if…if we stay together that I'll be around more and more, and maybe one day, always." She paused at the weight of her implication, then continued. "And if that does happen, I need to be comfortable with this part of you. There's nothing wrong with you and you shouldn't have to change your lifestyle for me."

She paused as her mind echoed with an infuriating drawl. _Oh come on, buttercup, you know I like you better when you prettify yourself up. I just don't care for all that make-up, you know that, and you look so much better in those pretty colors than all that dark. Come on, Marianne, just a little change for your dashing lover…_

Marianne scowled then continued with renewed determination. "This is on me, to accept you fully. And part of that is going to be accepting that you eat meat and that there's nothing wrong with that."

The look Bog gave her was pure awe and adoration. He moved to take her into his arms, then paused. "Is it…OK…if I hold you?" he asked.

Marianne smiled and initiated by leaning into him. "Yeah, it's OK."

He put his arms around her then and pressed her to his chest, leaning his cheek against the top of her head. He sighed deeply. "The more I get to know you, the more amazing you are, tough girl. Not everyone could have done what you just did."

"Yeah, but I've got a super amazing, sweet, kind boyfriend who I really, really don't want to give up," Marianne said, wrapping her own arms around his waist.

Bog chuckled. "Good, because I've got a tough, wise, and beautiful girlfriend who I really, really don't want to give up either."

"And that, we can absolutely both agree on," Marianne answered with a hint of a smirk.

Bog grinned back down at her. "That we can," he said.


End file.
